Dad's Memorial Service

I still think of Dad every day...numerous times a day. Little things will trigger the thoughts; a song, a picture, a tv show or movie star...he loved old Westerns and John Wayne.  I guess things will get better over time.  Though I know I will always miss him.  I just wonder when I will be able to think of him without tearing up...or crying. 

I found some letters that he wrote to me when I was away at summer church camp while in high school.  They were tucked in my childhood bible.  I loved reading them...loved seeing his handwriting and actually hearing his voice as I read the words. 

I have a voice mail that he left for me after one of his many doctor visits last fall.  It's the only one I have, and I sometimes play it just to pretend his arms are wrapped around me in a great big bear hug.  He gave the best hugs. I love actually hearing his voice...hearing him say, "I love you pumpkin".

I still wrestle with the thought that Dad is really gone.  It's so unfair. 

A couple of people have asked me what I said at his service.  Here's what I wrote and spoke...

"When thinking about what I wanted to say today, I stumbled upon a blog entry that I wrote on September 3 of this year.  I titled it "a flash of life" and this is a part of that entry...

"You know how they say that before you die, your life flashes before your eyes?

That happened to me on the day that my Dad called me to tell me that he had cancer, that three tumors had invaded his brain and were wreaking havoc. At that moment, life as I had know it came to an end.

I was in my bedroom that day with Max and Nick when Dad called.  Walking down the stairs, as Dad said the words, "cancer" and "3-5 years",  I sat down on the stairs and my childhood flashed before me.  I saw the fishing trips, the family walks, Christmases and Thanksgivings, the one-on-one talks about life's problems, Dad walking me down the aisle.  I saw the hugs, the laughs, the look of pride on his face when I accomplished something big.  I pictured us all in the car on the way to church.  I saw us all at the beach.  I saw us around the dinner table laughing.  I saw all of these things and thought about how great we have had it.  How blessed we have been.  How perfect our family is.

Then I got mad.  Mad at God.  Mad at Cancer.  Plain old MAD.

Life and death go hand in hand.  It is inevitable that every relationship will end.  This is a very difficult fact of life and one that I still hate even in my adulthood.  A fact that, grips me...squeezes my heart...covers me like a dark cloud.  It seems so unfair.  That all good things must come to an end in our lifetime.

This week I played the song, "Turn! Turn! Turn!" by The Byrds over and over again.  It's like the musical version of Ecclesiastes 3.  And I realize that this is God's plan. But one day, we will all be reunited again.  We will be together forever...always.  And there will be no cancer, no sadness.  And my Nan and Pop and Grandmother and Grandfather and Miller...and Max and Mom and Dad, Robyn, Nick, Wade and everyone I have ever loved and lost will be there.  We will be happy...and this time, it will never end."

Just before Thanksgiving, I wrote to a good friend and someone I consider a spiritual mentor, Reverend Ken Jackson, in frustration...asking him to help me understand why God would allow my Dad to suffer from cancer, to become crippled by this awful disease.  This is what Ken said to me, " As far as being mad at God... that is understandable. The way I would counsel you is to ask, ' what is it that God has promised us?' has he promised that we would live and never die? has he promised us that we would live lives without sorrow and heartache? no... he has not promised us any of those. what he has promised us is that no matter what we experience in this life he is with us... we are not alone, and he promises that he will draw us closer to him when we cross the threshold from this life into the life we were created to have, life with him.

I know this next thing will be hard for you to hear,  but because of your dad's faith, and because of what I know and understand about God, I think it is incredibly important. Your dad has spent your entire life telling you, teaching you, showing you how to live, and I think he's done an excellent job. Now, your dad is going to spend the rest of his life, teaching you, showing you how to die. He has lived his life as a Christian and now he is moving into the stage of dying as a Christian. That's no small thing Alison. It is easy to have faith when you have a loving wife and two beautiful daughters. It is real faith when a man faces his mortality and still chooses to love God, and to demonstrate his faith on a daily basis.

Last week,  When Ken visited Dad in the hospital.  Ken asked Dad, "Hank, where do you see God in all of this?". Then Dad who had been somewhat uncommunicative and sleeping most of the day, opened his eyes wide and said out loud, "everywhere!" then he whispered over and over..."everywhere, everywhere, everywhere, everywhere..."

My Dad remained a faithful follower and servant until his last breath.  His final lesson to me as a Father was to trust in God and never lose sight of him...even in your darkest hour.

I'd like to close by reading Ecclesiastes 3 verses 1-8 from the King James Bible that my mother gave to my Dad Christmas of 1976."